


Arch Treatment

by caer_swan (mistymystery5), Havok (Havok452)



Category: Venture Bros
Genre: Dubious Consent, Humor, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-31
Updated: 2010-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-06 21:30:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistymystery5/pseuds/caer_swan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Havok452/pseuds/Havok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the request: "The doctor is captured while he's sick, and for some reason (possibly something similar to Rusty's Law) the Monarch is obligated to give him medical treatment."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arch Treatment

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on the Venture Bros [kink meme](http://theladyfeylene.livejournal.com/1116886.html), which was: "The Monarch/Dr. Venture hurt/comfort. The doctor is captured while he's sick, and for some reason (possibly something similar to Rusty's Law) the Monarch is obligated to give him medical treatment."
> 
> Co-written with my girlfriend caer_swan, who in my opinion did the majority of the work and certainly all the good stuff!

The Monarch was just thinking that it had been too long since he'd seen some action, some real action. He needed something he could sink his teeth into. With Venture out of the picture for the time being and Dr. Mrs. The Monarch away at a villainess retreat, the Monarch had nothing better to do than march up and down the pink halls of his Cocoon and bark orders at the henchmen. But even with the barking and the ordering and tranquillizer darting, the henchmen looked just as bored as The Monarch felt.

Just as The Monarch decided to try out his wife's new smelly bath salts, the pink hall floor began to shake. Henchman 21 bounded toward The Monarch, flushed and quivering with apparent excitement.

"Boss! Boss! You'll never guess what I picked up when we were at Costco!"

"Well I certainly hope it was a treadmill, 21, because it looks like you really need one!" The Monarch began to stalk back up the hall, away from the blathering, sweaty idiot in front of him.

21 grabbed his arm. He was definitely stronger than he used to be, in the days when 24 was still at his side. "No, Boss! This way! You're gonna be so excited!" The Henchman was trying to steer him to the emergency stairwell. "This way will be fastest!"

21 was also less forward when 24 was alive.

The Monarch jerked back, freeing himself from the henchman's grip. He brushed off his arm, at the place where 21 had touched him.

"FINE. Show me what's got your panties in a ruffle today!"

Three flights of stairs and two curving halls later, they were at the Cocoon's holding cells. Inside, curled in the fetal position was a shivering mass of wrinkled clothes. The mass coughed.

The Monarch recognized that cough.

"He was coming out of Costco with a whole bag of crap," 21 said. "Would you believe he was alone? So I just grabbed him an-"

"YOU BLATHERING IDIOT," The Monarch roared at 21. "Didn't you read the rulebook?!"

"Wait what?"

"The Guild Rulebook? The one Dr. My Wife made us read WORD FOR FUCKING WORD OVER AND OVER AGAIN?"

21 shifted his weight from foot to foot "Well, honestly? I kinda can't focus when she's in the room..." he admitted.

"WHAT?!" The Monarch brought up his wrist, ready to tranq his most loyal henchman.

"Her perfume! Her perfume! It makes me eyes water! I can't focus!" 21 flailed. He looked pathetic. The Monarch felt sorry for him, only for a brief moment.

Dr. Venture coughed again and he sounded miserable.

"Rusty's Law!" The Monarch said. "Third addendum. It clearly states that if your captive is ill upon TAKING you must provide adequate medical care..."

"OH," 21 said. He looked as if a lightbulb had gone off in his head. "The addendum!"

"You've really disappointed me this time 21. For your punishment I want you to go out and, er... wash the Cocoon!" 21 made move to protest. "No arguing! Leave me to deal with this mess you've brought down upon my noble Monarch brow!"

The Monarch's mind was working a mile a minute. When the sound of 21's thundering footsteps stopped echoing down the hall he turned to his captive.

Dr. His Wife had told him Dr. Venture was off this weekend. Guild Mandate. Something about the flu or the plague or some sort of weak, asinine excuse why he couldn't arch Venture while she was gone. Arching a sick person wasn't fun, either. There is less screaming. From what The Monarch could see from his vantage point on the other side of the bars, Venture was down for the count. Part of the fun of arching that ass was his reaction to The Monarch's clever, diabolical plans. Torturing him now wouldn't be fun, not at all...

Venture whimpered. "But I needed medicine..." he said. The Monarch almost didn't understand the words, what with Venture's sickly slur.

"Medicine?!" The Monarch said. He pressed the release button to the right of the barred door. It opened with a mechanical screech. Venture winced at the sound. "What do you think this is, a hospital!? Do I look like your wetnurse?" The Monarch pushed at Venture with his curved boot-toe.

Dr. Venture rolled right off the narrow bench and hit the floor with a moan. When Venture's eyes met The Monarch's, they widened and Venture began to tremble.

"Who are you and what do you want with me?!" Venture said. In his panic he was overtaken by a series of body-shaking coughs. "Where's my dad?!" he managed to choke out.

In his feverish-state, he seemed to have regressed to the child Rusty. A wicked idea stuck The Monarch. "I'm, I'm Dr. Mona- Mal. Yes! Dr. Mal! And I'm here to give you your... medicine." The Monarch could hardly contain his glee.

"Mal means Bad," Venture said, his eyes wide.

"Venture! I mean... Rusty. Is that any way to treat a doctor? Do you disrespect your father this way, Rusty?" he said soothingly.

"No," he said, sounding weaker.

"That's what I thought." The Monarch wrung his hands in anticipation. "I'm going to help you get better, Rusty. Why don't you get up and..." he paused, for his own dramatic effect. "And lean over the bed."

The Monarch was about to head deep into uncharted waters.

Venture did as instructed, seeming to find some relief in resting his aching body on the cell bed.

The Monarch moved behind him. "Now Rusty, I'm going to have to take your temperature," he said in a tone that commanded compliance. Venture stayed perfectly still, with the exception of a shiver or small cough.

This was too easy, his enemy was too trusting. It had to be a trap.

"I need you to pull down your pants, Rusty," The Monarch said. He didn't want to touch Venture. Yet.

Venture's speedsuit was open and down around his knees. He wasn't wearing any briefs. He resumed his position leaning over the bed. Venture was still. The Monarch had a sinking feeling that Venture may have taken this position before, but that did not satiate his hatred for the weak enemy before him. Convinced that Rusty Venture was his for the taking, The Monarch ran a gloved hand over the pale, hairless flesh and waited for a reaction. No objection, no screams of embarrassment or anxiety.

For lack of an alternative, The Monarch spat in his hand. Without delicacy, he prepared his prey. His wet thumb pushed gently at Venture's opening. The Monarch let out a breath that was somewhat of a shakey, high-pitched groan. There was no turning back now, even if he had wanted to.

"Now just relax..." He wet his index finger and slowly inserted it into Rusty. Venture whimpered. "Yeesss," The Monarch quietly let out in satisfaction.

Venture let out a few pitiful coughs. His body tightened on The Monarch's finger.

"Rusty, you're so sick! I mean... your temperature is so high! I... I have to give you medicine, yes!"

He opened his Monarch suit, freeing his hardening manhood. He gently rubbed himself a few times in anticipation, using his spit again as lubrication. Without flourish he pressed his mighty Monarch member to Venture's hole, biting his lower lip to stifle an inappropriate giggle.

At his violation, Venture began to protest, "That hurts! Ahh! I'm not sick, I'm not sick!"

The Monarch stopped. "You are sick! I have to give you your medicine!"

"Why does it have to be there?"

"Silence! This is the best place to give you the medicine! Do not question me!"

Venture whimpered and stopped fighting.

The Monarch pressed into him again. "It's not deep enough, I have to get deeper to give you your medicine!" His fingers dug into Venture's bony hips. The Monarch could hardly contain his mad excitement.

"Ahh, that hurts! Bad!" Venture was weeping and breathless.

"Yeeess, Mal does mean Bad! But this is so good! I mean, you're being so good, Rusty!"

Venture coughed a few times, then cried out, "Is it deep enough yet?" The Monarch was in almost to the hilt.

The Monarch ignored his question. "Now I have to take it out and put it back in again!"

"It's too big!"

"You can take it..." He sighed blissfully and pushed in again.

Venture shifted and tried to move away. The Monarch scolded him, "You're so squirmy, Rusty! I have to adjust it..." He pulled out and pushed in again, faster than before.

"Hurry up and give me my medicine, I don't want to be sick anymore!"

The Monarch continued to thrust into him. "But you're so sick!" his voice squeaky with need, "I have to give you your medicine. Don't you want to get better, Rusty? Don't you want Doctor Mal to make you better?"

Venture replied with a helpless sob.

The Monarch pounded without mercy and as he went, he muttered almost to himself, "Yeees, Rusty, that's it, take your medicine like a good boy, Doctor Monarch will make you all better..."

It was so good. The Monarch couldn't believe it, he was actually arching his nemesis' ass. It was too much.

The Monarch paced himself, slowing to thrust into Venture. The world was silent for a few breathless moments before The Monarch reached his end and collapsed behind Venture, who remained shivering, and weeping.

*****

The Monarch directed 21 to drop Venture back where he had found him in front of the pharmacy. The good doctor was unconscious. 21 was instructed to hang around until Venture gained his wits and continued on his journey home.

The Monarch was lounging on his living room couch, staring off into space. The sounds of the TV didn't reach his ears. He didn't even notice when Dr. His Wife entered the room with shopping bags in her hands, those tiny little bastards trailing behind her.

Her deep voice snapped him out of his reprieve. She said something about the retreat but he didn't quite hear the words. He sneezed violently.

She came over to him, concerned, "Oh Honey, are you coming down with something? I can send the Moppets out for some medicine..."


End file.
